Gift Trade
by Sam Worth
Summary: Alan was on his way to Aunt Irene's birthday party, Charlie just wanted some peace and quiet to grade papers, and Don had only come by to take a shower. But for a short moment, they were all together. Slice of life.


_A/N Written for fandom_stocking 2018 for_ _Vexed_Wench. Crossposted after reveal._

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 **Gift Trade**

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"Really? A vase?" His brother Don laughed out loud and slouched down on an empty chair next to Charlie. "You spent half an hour calculating the best present for Aunt Irene and your result is a vase?"

Charlie crossed his arms. "Yes!" He glared at him. "Did you come up with a better idea?"

Don shrugged. "It's a matter what Dad wants to do, isn't it?" He continued to rub his hair, trying to dry it. Lately, he only came by to take a shower.

"I only want to have a gift," Alan grumbled. "In two hours I have to go to her party and I can't come empty-handed."

"Why not?"

Charlie chuckled as the smoldering look from their father made Don shift in his chair.

"I didn't mean it like that," he defended his ill-considered words, "but seriously, watching you and Charlie using math to calculate a present doesn't seem right."

"Hey! Everything is math. Math is the perfect way to find the perfect gift."

Don leaned forward and grabbed the paper with Charlie's calculations. Water drops wet the paper while he tried to make sense of the scribbling. "And what variables did you use?"

"Time, money, value, availability, probability of duplication and uniqueness," he recounted, tapping on the table.

"Hadn't she gotten Dad a bowl last year?" Don pushed the paper back.

"That she had," Alan said and rushed through the room. "A horrible and ugly bowl. I haven't looked at it since that day." He looked around the room. "Did any of you see my tie?"

"It's upstairs, next to the shower," Don reported. "Where is the bowl?"

"Somewhere in the garage," Charlie explained. "The box is always in the way but I'm not allowed to throw it away."

"You don't throw away a present," Alan called out while he climbed upstairs. "It's disrespectful."

Charlie rolled his eyes while Don chuckled, again rubbing his hair. "You mean as disrespectful as trying to come up with a gift that's cheap but looks expensive in less than two hours," Charlie said under his breath causing Don to grin harder.

"So, let me guess, Dad gave you the estimated value of the bowl to use in your calculation to find the perfect gift?"

"Of course, what else?"

Alan came back, stopped in front of the table and towered over his sons. In his left hand, he held on his tie even as he crossed his arms. "Don, if you're here, you have time, right? Why don't you go to Aunt Irene?"

Resting the towel on his neck, Don smirked. "Because I have to be in court shortly."

"Saved by work," Alan grumbled. "I should have never retired."

"It's easy to get a vase. There's a gift shop on your way and you'll even get it wrapped there." Charlie shrugged. "And don't ask me. I have to be in class but before I actually have to do some grading."

Alan huffed. "Don't get old or you start to celebrate your birthday earlier and earlier in the day." He advised his sons before he relaxed his stance again. Rubbing across his chin, he hesitated. "Are you sure that a vase is the right present?"

"Positive," Charlie said.

Don shook his head and grabbed himself a glass of water.

"What?" Alan asked.

Startled, Don looked up in time to catch the questioning look from his father. He shrugged. "If you want to continue your gift trade, it's perfect." He gulped down the water.

"Gift trade?"

A deep sighed escaped Don's throat. "What Charlie calculated was an exchange - I'll get you something that has the same value, costs the same amount of money as you did for me." He used the wet towel around his neck as a chest expander and stretched his muscles in his back. "And the only reason you got her something is because she had gotten you a gift. That's almost the definition of trading - if you get me something, I'll get you something and so on. The only thing missing is the fine print." He smirked.

"In this family," Alan tapped on the table, "we make presents because it's the right thing to do. And polite."

"But Charlie's math did not calculate a gift but a trading good."

"What? My math is not at fault here. Based on experience and -"

"Charlie," Don lowered his arms and relaxed, "for trading you need to have a market and our society is the perfect market. We all do it all the time – it's a social requirement to get a gift based on the gift you want or have received. It's the polite thing to do but that's not what was originally intended and incredibly difficult – hence the reason why Dad needs your math."

Alan chuckled. "You're right. It would be easier with fine print."

Don climbed to his feet, warming up to the idea. "In the fine print you could write down everything you need to know – like money to spend, time you have to spent searching for it and most of all a date of expiration when you're finally free of the obligation."

"Or maybe a way to buy yourself out of it." Alan tilted his head. "That would be helpful."

"Just be careful of the penalty for breach of contact." Don clapped his father on the shoulder. "Just be careful."

Charlie looked from Alan to Don and back. "What are you talking about?"

Alan shock himself out of his thoughts. "I have to get dressed. Why don't you explain it your brother?"

Don opened his mouth but then shut it down. "Right." He sighed in frustration and glanced to his watch. "You're up to another calculation?"

"You want to do math?"

Raising his hands, Don shook his head. "No way. But I can give you a new set of variables and then you do the calculation you have already done. I guess you'll see the difference then – in your numbers."

"Fine," Charlie grabbed an empty sheet of paper. "I'm ready." He was not only ready but almost eager.

After taking a deep breath, Don slowly breathed out. "Interests of Aunt Irene, usefulness for her and availability." He abandoned his towel and threw it over the back of a chair.

Charlie wrote down the three words and stopped. Then he looked up. "I need more data. Without a money range and the statistic data about the preference of women her age I can't calculate anything."

Don tilted his head. "She can't stand dad, so I'll guess everything that he'd like is out."

"That not specific enough." He played with his pen. "What about golf? Does she like golf?"

"No way, or dad and her would have at least on thing in common to talk about."

Charlie wrote down fact after fact, creating a list.

"What does it help you to know what she doesn't like?" Don leaned forward to glance at Charlie's list.

"The elimination of known dislikes increases the possibility to find a good match."

Don nodded but the doubt remained on his face. "As far as I remember she liked the same flowers as Mom – that was something they always talked about."

Heavy footsteps signaled the return of their father. "Dad?" Don called out. "What does Aunt Irene actually like?"

"Besides trashy novels? I don't know." He scratched his chin before he stepped up to the mirror to tie his tie.

Charlie started to write. His pen moved faster and faster.

"If your math results in a trashy novel you can forget it. I won't ever buy such a book." Alan slipped into his jacket. "And?" He turned to his oldest son.

"Looking good," Don said while he brushed off some dust from the shoulder.

Suddenly, Charlie stopped his furious writing and looked up. "That's funny." But he didn't reveal his conclusion.

"What is funny, Charlie?" Alan finally raised an eyebrow and prompted him.

"If I use the new set of variables and data I'll get something completely different."

"No vase?" Don asked with a smirk. "You would have thought?" He ignored the scolding expression on Alan's face.

"So Charlie, what is the ideal gift for Aunt Irene according to your brother's math?" Alan asked without blinking at the odd combination that Don had decided what parameters to use. He grabbed his keys and went to the door.

"A computer game."

"What?" Alan and Don exclaimed in unison. "A computer game?"

"Yes. It's the ideal combination of almost no need for additional storage and values her interests."

"A computer game? I don't think -" Don said and his voice reflected the doubts he had.

"There are games about classical novels like Agatha Christie where you have to follow the clues the same way as the novel. Most of these games tell a story you play - it's a story without being a book."

"A computer game?" Alan sounded really shocked. "I can't – That's not the right response to a bowl and it isn't - " He stopped with the door already opened.

Don crossed his arms. "I guess it's time to decide whether you want to participate in the gift trade or trying to make real gift."

"Seriously dad," Charlie said, "that's a great idea. A computer game has the highest probability to match her interests and to be a great gift. These games are exactly made for well-read people who enjoy solving a crime."

Alan opened his mouth and closed it again.

"Enjoy?" Don snorted. "There are people who enjoy this?" Without looking down, he fastened his gun and cell on his belt. His focus never left Charlie, waiting for an answer.

"If you know that everything is only make-believe, sure, why not?" Charlie shrugged.

"And what do I have to pay for a," Alan made sure that his voice reflected what he thought about the idea, "a computer game."

"Ten to fifteen dollars."

"So little? That's too cheap – the bowl had-"

Don's laughter echoed across the room. "What did I say? The whole gift thing is a brilliant new cover name for the trading of goods. Just wait until we catch up on it and add some new taxes."

Charlie glanced at his two calculations. "I have to agree with Don. The math supports that theory simply by comparing the two different result sets."

"It's not only math. You either think about yourself and what you're willing to pay or get in reciprocation. If you really want to make a gift you think about what the other person would enjoy the most, regardless of money or fame or time. That's the reason making a gift to somebody who won't be able to reciprocate is so rewarding."

Charlie grinned in agreement. "That's a perfect way to explain why I love teaching. I make a gift to them without ever expecting anything in return and if one of student enjoy it, it makes me happy."

Don clapped his brother on the shoulder. "That's the spirit, Chuck."

Alan raised his eyebrow. "I guess now I know why I'm still waiting for grandchildren. If both of my boys don't know how to send gifts to their dates, it's no surprise."

The brothers chuckled. "Maybe we just don't want to take part in a useless gift trade and save our time and money for a real gift." Don consulted his watch. "By the way, you have to go, or you add the offense of being late."

A raised finger, and then Alan was out of the door.

"Is your phone charged?" Don asked while he also grabbed his keys.

"What? Why?"

Don gave him a long look. "Because dad is going to call you to ask what game to buy and I'll have to shut off my phone in court."

Charlie snorted. But then he grabbed his phone and checked. "I'm ready."

Waving goodbye, Don vanished through the door, leaving Charlie behind in the finally silent house. He shook his head and smiled. Now where were his papers to grade?

 **END**

 _A/N Thank you for reading!_ _  
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